


The Jedi and the Soldier

by PunsBulletsAndPointyThings



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: 15 minute flash fic, Angst, GFY, M/M, Pining, cross posted from tumblr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-20
Updated: 2016-03-20
Packaged: 2018-05-27 21:14:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6300664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PunsBulletsAndPointyThings/pseuds/PunsBulletsAndPointyThings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He wants. Force, but he wants.</p>
<p>But he is a Jedi.</p>
<p>And so he walks away.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Jedi

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Leechbrain](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leechbrain/gifts).



> So, today on tumblr I was taking prompts for 15 minute flash fics. This was suggested by the lovely Leechbrain, and it was very well received. So, I'm sharing it (and the second part in the works) here.

Obi-wan Kenobi is a Jedi.  
  
He had always been a Jedi.  
  
He always will be a Jedi. He has always known this, known it with a shining, dura-steel certainty.  
  
It was that certainty that kept him going as an initiate, growing older, watching his age-mates be chosen by masters, one after another, and yet never being given the same chance. It was what kept him going during the whole Bandomeer mess, even as Qui-gon Jinn refused him again and again.  
  
It was that certainty that keep him going, no matter what the Force or the Universe threw at him. Siri’s death, Qui-gon’s death, the War, everything.  
  
He was Obi-wan Kenobi, and he was a Jedi Knight.  
  
But being a Jedi comes with rules, rule that are ingrained from childhood.  
  
A Jedi does not form attachments.  
  
He had never been good at following that one, but somehow he had managed.  
  
Became a padawan, became a knight (in the worst possible way), trained a padawan, became a Master.  
  
And then the war came. And with it came the fighting, and the clones.  
  
One clone in particular.  
  
Obi-wan can’t put his finger on it, as he stands next to Anakin and Ahsoka while they listen to Rex and Cody debrief. Can’t pinpoint the one moment when it started, when the Attachment formed, took root and grew, fast and strong, catching him up in its current and washing him away like a rag doll.  
  
His eyes drift, meet an amber gaze. There is a beat, and then Obi-wan looks away, too quickly.  
  
Force and gods. He may not know when it started, but somewhere, somehow, it did, and he finds that he is helpless to stop it. To even want to stop it.  
  
Want.  
  
Oh but does he want. More than he can remember wanting anyone else.  
  
And isn’t that just a terrifying thought.  
  
Debrief is over before Obi-wan realizes, and the four men and one padawan split, moving to go their separate ways, to do whatever duties await them. Obi-wan’s feet move without his conscious thought, and suddenly he is falling in step with Rex.  
  
The captain does not comment, and they walk in silence.  
  
He is beautiful, and Obi-wan is weak. He allows himself a few stolen moments to trace the lines of Rex’s profile with his eyes, taking in the bumps and scars, a map of individuality in a sea of like faces. His fingers itch to reach out and touch, to feel the tanned skin, the close cut hair.  
  
They reach the center of the camp, and the captain turns, gracing Obi-wan with a slight nod instead of a salute, and the barest hint of a smile.  
  
“General.”  
  
“Captain.” His throat feels dry, but his voice is steady. He watches Rex’s retreating shape for a few more hearts beats.  
  
He wants to reach out. To touch. To say.  
  
He turns, makes his way towards his tent.  
  
He is a Jedi.  
  
A Jedi.


	2. The Soldier

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rex knows how to watch.  
> Knows when he is being watched.  
> Obi-wan's eyes are heat on his skin, and he notices ever stare, every glance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo, here we go, Rex's pov.
> 
> This one is a bit longer than the first part, since I didn't bother with a timer. Hopefully, it fits the the first part and isn't too chaotic?

Rex is a clone.  
  
Rex is also a soldier.  
  
Rex has always been soldier, was bred and born for battle.  
  
It’s in his blood; he has been training since he drew his first true breath.  
  
He knows how to watch.  
  
He knows General Kenobi watches him, can feel the Jedi’s eyes on him, points of heat that burn against his skin and yet still raise goosebumps.  
  
General Kenobi has been watching more and more as the war goes on, and at first Rex does not quite know what to make of it, doesn’t know what it means. Maybe he did something wrong, stepped out of line at some point?  
  
But no, that’s not it, and Kenobi never says anything, never brings it up, and Rex starts counting breathes when their eyes meet, waiting to see how long it takes before the Jedi looks away.  
  
The number grows smaller and smaller and Rex is not sure what that means.  
  
Most people, when asked, assume that Skywalker is the crazy one of their Jedi (and they are _their_ Jedi; Rex and Cody both know how to handle both sides of the coin, keep each other up to date). And they are right, to a degree. Because there is no denying that Skywalker has more than a few mad ideas and crazy plans, but they always seem to work out in the end, and so Rex is more than willing to go along.  
  
No one, when asked, ever assumes that Kenobi is just as crazy as the man he trained; but he is. He throws himself in the thick of things like it’s his entire world, with no care for his own safety, fights with a barely restrained ferocity Rex doesn’t think even he realizes exists, but Rex knows, can see it in his eyes, that it is not battle lust that drives him.  
  
Commander Tano once told Rex that the Jedi believed the dead become one with the Force and are never truly gone. It had been the first year of the war, and their new commanding officer had said it like she truly believed it.  
  
Rex doesn’t think Obi-wan believes it. Not when he can see the shadows darkening under the other man’s eyes, and the growing gauntness of his face.  
  
He is still beautiful, despite the war-toil, but those eyes, blue and stormy, those are not the eyes of a man who is at peace with the Death around him. Rex knows those eyes, has seen them in more than one of his brothers, has seen them staring out of his own face when he looks in the mirror.  
  
Those are the eyes of someone who has lost more than his fair share, and is terrified of losing anyone else.  
  
And with every passing day those eyes linger on Rex’s skin more and more, and he learns to hide the hitch in his breathing and to keep the flush of heat from colouring his skin.  
  
Obi-wan never speaks of it, and Rex refuses to push, even when he meets the Jedi’s eyes, and he looks away, leaving Rex’s skin cold without the heat of his gaze.  
  
They stand in a small circle, he and Cody giving their reports. Obi-wan’s eyes are on him from the start, and when Rex chances a glance up, meets his Jedi’s gaze-  
  
The Jedi.  
  
His Jedi.  
  
(He doesn’t know when Obi-wan became _his_ Jedi, or when General morphed to Kenobi, to Obi-wan, but suddenly he doesn’t care.)  
  
There is a new heat it those blue eyes, a want that causes warmth to bloom in the pit of Rex’s stomach, and it’s tinged with something else, something painful and sad.  
  
He has to bite his lip, forces himself away from the idea of reaching out, making the pain leave those eyes, making sure it never comes back.  
  
And then they are walking away, and Obi-wan is at his side.  
  
Still watching.  
  
Never saying.  
  
And Rex can feel those eyes running over his face, feels a shiver down his spin. Wonders what it would feel like if it were fingers, rather than eyes.  
  
They stay silent, and then they are in the center of camp. The sun is low, casting golden light and setting Obi-wan’s hair ablaze with copper and gold.  
  
“General.”  
  
“Captain.”  
  
Obi-wan’s voice carries more fire than his eyes, and Rex has to dig his nails in to his palms to make himself turn away.  
  
Those eyes follow his every step, and then the heat vanishes as the general turns.  
  
Rex can remembers every battle, every injury. Every time those eyes were bright with hope or joy, every time they grew dim and flat with pain or grief or despair.  
  
There is a chain of command.  
  
There are rules. Rules Rex has known longer than he has been able to read.  
  
He turns.  
  
Runs.  
  
Reaches out. Catches, skin on skin, and it feels like touching fire in the best possible way.  
  
Obi-wan turns, and Rex watches a string of emotion flash in his eyes.  
  
Words.  
  
“General…I….”  
  
Breathe.  
  
“Obi-wan-“  
  
His Jedi’s eyes on his skin carries branding warmth. Touching him, still holding his wrist, one hand one the side of his face, is fire.  
  
Kissing him feels like coming home.  
  
Rex may be a soldier, may be a clone.  
  
Obi-wan may be a Jedi.  
  
But clones were made for the Jedi.  
  
So that’s okay.


End file.
